


The Power of Deduction: A Sherlock's Daughter Story

by reading_rachel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Newbie - Freeform, OC, Other, Sherlock's daughter, martin freeman - Freeform, new here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9509864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reading_rachel/pseuds/reading_rachel
Summary: When Sherlock finally got the case he wanted, he didn't expect to bring a girl home. Neither did she. But this girl happens to be 4 years old. So, as she grows up in a crime busting world, will Sherlock grow up too?





	1. Chapter 1

The sun's rays went through the window, making itthe only form of light that went through the small apartment.  
Sitting alone on his chair, Sherlock Holmes was in his robe looking though cases on his laptop.  
"4,3,5,2," he drowned on and on, his voice sounding more and more frustrated.  
He stood up quickly and got his coat finding a case that was at least a 6.  
Going down the stairs and opening up the door dramatically, he waved for a taxi, his scarf moving with the wind that signaled yet another rainy day in London England.  
The taxi arrived revealing a small home with vines growing around the roof almost hiding the huge crack in the house. The white paint was barely reaching the surface, covered by dirt and age.  
"Who are you?"  
Sherlock bumped passed a man slamming open the front door. A small girl in dirty and large clothes jumped, hiding behind a corner.  
The man with light blonde hair, a bit of a belly, followed Sherlock, and gave the girl a intense and stern look. She suddenly jumped back up again, returning to cleaning the dishes.  
"Who. ARe. YOU," the man roared.  
"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and the police will be here in-"  
Suddenly, two police cars showed up to the front of the house.  
"Get back to work," the man said, gritting his teeth while the small child behind him seemed to be looking out the window. With her eyes wide and arms shaking, she went back to work.  
"What's going on Dad?"  
Sherlock turned to the hallway to the left of the front door, revealing at least 5 kids, all with dark hair and dark eyes, clearly in elementary school a majority of them, except two who were about in their early teens.  
"Secret boyfriend," suddenly popped up next to one of the older kids. Sherlock smirked at his deduction. "Probably going to be pregnant sooner or later no doubt," he thought.  
The other teen was clearly failing 3 of his classes and smoking crack.  
One of the kids looked at the small girl and gave an evil grin. It was clear him and the others harass her.  
He then looked at the girl, her arms were shaking with bruises and scratches on her legs and arms, clearly from her sibling. He tried to deduce her further but her emotions showed nothing. Which left Sherlock shocked and confused.  
The girls eyes looked at Sherlock staring at her.  
"Trench Coat, clearly expensive. Comes from a rich family," she thought, looking at the consulting detective, "a job that is made up clearly doesn't get a lot of money," she giggled at that thought. Despite the fact that her dad didn't let her watch TV  
or take any breaks for that matter, the four year old still has heard of the famous genius.  
"By the way he is griping his hands, he's trying to hide something or..is lying to himself," she thought, "clearly is the younger sibling, and has a friend who's a doctor." She smiled at how much she's been improving.  
"Sherlock for the millionth time bring the-," Lestrade began but then stopped when he saw the little girl standing before him. Sherlock stared at him trying not to get pissed at not only him, but the situation at hand.  
"Put your hands up, you bastard."  
"We called for the murder of my brother not for me to get arrested," the big man spat while being put into handcuffs.  
"Suicide," Sherlock spat back.  
"I'm sorry?!"  
"Suicide. Obvious really."  
"Knew it,"the little girl wrote down on a piece of paper, carefully passing it to Sherlock.  
"Now get in the car," Lestrade stated gruffly as he passed the accused abuser to the other officers.  
"And you," he looked towards the little girl as he went back in the broken down house," what might your name be?"  
"Charlotte," she wrote in messy handwriting on a piece of paper.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlotte looked at her older brother nervously, his face changed from one of mischief to one of anger.

As she walked out of the house, he put his leg out causing her to trip and fall on the floor.

"Your fault," he spat.

"He's not even your real dad Hans," one of the children replied.

Charlotte frowned and got back up, noticing a newfound scar on her knee.

Lestrade glared at the other children on the way out as he led her out to the police car leading to the station.

 

"She's not talking," Lestrade stated sadly.

"Can she even talk?!"

"Of course she can Anderson," Sherlock began, "she's brilliant."

Suddenly all the officers turned towards the tall and lean man, also known as Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes was not only one of great intelligence but he was one who didn't treat compliments lightly and gave them very rarely.

So to say that he gave one to a four year old girl he barely knew was to say...shocking.

"You don't see it?!"

"See what," Anderson asked.

"Sherlock rolled his eyes before dramatically leaving again texting John on his way out.

"I say he gets the job."

"Are you crazy," Anderson started, "he's a psychopath. He'll use her for experiments before he becomes a good father!"

"I'm not asking him to be a father, I'm asking him to watch her for a few days," Lestrade started, "we both know the orphanages are full and would you rather watch her?!"

Anderson then looked at the child through the nearby window. She was writing notes down as she stared at him then walking up to a whiteboard she wrote one thing.

CHEATER.


	3. Chapter 3

"No I suppose not."

"No."

"Sherlock-"

"No."

"You said she was brilliant."

"I am a consulting detective not a babysitter."

"Please," he begged.

"Using the word please will not make your case better Lestrade."

"She's useful."

"How?"

"You said it not me."

"I said she was brilliant not useful."

"Intelligence is power."

"Since when are you a man of quotes?!"

"Since I've been seeing Barbara."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Then suddenly he thought of something.

"Let me see them."

"Who?"

"Her parents."

"What?!"

"I'll watch her if you let me see her parents. They abused her. Might as well see what I'm getting myself into."

"Her mother didn't abuse her."

"Wrong."

"She did too?!"

"Obviously."

"Fine," Lestrade sighed on the phone then hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

Please listen to Sherlock-The Music Box Collection by Lucas King while reading this. It's beautiful.

Later that day, Sherlocj came back to Scottland Yard once again to pick up Charlotte.

"She still hasn't spoken," Donavan stated looking at the child sadly.

"Obviously, you think things would change in one day," Sherlock asked.

"Oh shut up freak."

"Come along Charlotte," Sherlock called, ignoring Donovan as he opened the door letting Charlotte out.

Looking at her eyes he was reminded of someone he knew...or maybe someone he still knows.

It was late at night and presented Charlotte with a brown teddy bear as a "Welcome Home," gift as she so excitedly stated. Which of course Sherlock disagreed with, saying she wouldn't stay longer than a couple of days.

"Oh Sherlock," she sighed, "I never thought you would be a father."

"I'm not adopting her ," he responded for what seemed like the 50th time.

She shook her head ignoring him as she took away an empty tray from his apartment, closing the door on her way out.

Charlotte rubbed her eyes, writing in messy handwriting, "I should go to bed."

"John's room is down the hall to the left m," he muttered pointing to the room while strumming his violin.

"Is that your doctor friend," she wrote on the paper.

Sherlock rose an eyebrow. She deduced more than he thought she did about him.

He nodded.

Charlotte wobbled down the hall looking at a closet on the way there, which revealed old tattered blue scarfs.

She looked to see if anyone saw her and then took one for herself, wrapping it around her new bear.

She named it Sherlock.

"Here you go mummy," Charlotte said as she gave her mum and dad some bacon and eggs. She tried to hide her shaking hands not wanting to be hit again.

"What did I say about talking," the woman snapped, "you idiot. You never learn. You're as useless as you are daft."

Charlotte then ran off hearing the shattering of dishes.

Suddenly she bumped into Hans.

"You daft dimbo," he said punching her in the stomach, "you made mother angry again. You're a mistake and that's all you'll ever be," he continued punching her over and over again until-

"AAAAAAAAAAAA," Charlotte screamed as she shot up from her, or formally John's bed.

Sherlock shot up running towards the room concerned.

She rocked back and forth as she wrote a note trying not to scream again.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," Sherlock read out loud, "I just had a nightmare I'm sorry to wake you please don't," he paused.

"Please don't hit you," he asked, "or insult you like in your nightmare?"

"Both," she wrote.

It was clear then what affected her the most. It wasn't the constant beating from her brother. It was the verbal abuse from almost everyone in her family.

"Come along," he sighed turning on the light and reaching out his hand.

Charlotte took deep breaths as she rose an eyebrow.

"We're going to watch crappy telly. Now come."

She slowly stood up taking his hand and her best as they both sat on the couch to watch the television. Glowing in the dark night, Charlotte chuckled as Sherlock yelled at the TV who the actual father was.  
But despite the yelling, Charlotte soon found herself sleeping once again, on Sherlock's shoulder, her long eyelashes and small eyelids covering her soft hazel eyes.

That's when Sherlock realized.

Why he liked her.

Why she seemed so familiar.

Because she was so much like John.

From the shortness (which was only temporary), to her eyes that have seen too much but still remained soft, and even her blonde hair and smile. It was the exact same.

If he put Elizabeth Watson (Mary and John's daughter) and her side by side they could be sisters.

He suddenly imagined Charlotte, still four, trying to convince the elder Elizabeth (who's five) to play Cleudo with her. And although it couldn't happen now, maybe someday.

And that's how he found his next assistant.

The next morning Ms. Hudson found Charlotte and Sherlock sleeping side by side on the couch while the morning news played on the telly. Taking a quick picture, Sherlock shot up, careful not to wake the child up and was prepared to sign the papers.

The adoption papers.


	5. Chapter 5

The next two weeks were filled with joy and happiness for Charlotte. Happiness that she never felt before.

"Yes John I adopted a child."

Charlotte smiled, still not used to the fact that she got adopted.

"Yes."

"YES. I. ADOPTED. A. CHILD. STOP ACTING SURPRISED," Sherlock snapped on the end of the line.

"She's my assistant."

"For the cases of course."

Sherlock suddenly frowned.

"But-"

"Jawwwwnnn," he moaned in annoyance, "I don't care if she's four or five or whatever, she's older than she acts!"

He rolled his eyes and hung up while John was mid sentence.

"You're going to visit John," Sherlock suddenly turned towards Charlotte with his jacket already on, "I'm visiting your parents."

Charlotte winced at the thought of her parents. Not just what they meant to her. But the idea of those type of people existing.

"Doesn't he have a daughter," Charlotte wrote on a piece of paper.

"This is getting ridiculous. I'm not going to beat you for speaking Charlotte."

Charlotte then pointed at the question on the paper multiple times.

"Ugh yes," he nodded, "she's at school."

Charlotte smiled. It's not that she didn't like other children. It's just they made her nervous.

She should talk to her new therapist about that.

If she would talk that is.

Carrying her music theory books that she got at the library two days ago with Sherlock and listening to Chopin, Charlotte found herself in John's car.

"He's a very nice man," she thought, "no wonder Sherlock's friends with him. That and he carries a gun around."

"Would you like to go to the music store," John quickly asked while stopping at a stop light.

Charlotte nodded excitedly.

As they turned in, Charlotte nearly jumped out of the car, her little legs carrying her quickly to the music store.

That's when she saw it.

The cello.

She had heard song after song on the cello, even read music theory to learn how to play it. But she never in her life ever saw one.

"Would you like to try it," the store manager asked.

Charlotte nodded slowly.

Next thing she knew, her eyes were closed and her fingers swept off the strings, beautiful but sad notes from Adagio by Bach soon played and she smiled like she hadn't smiled before.

Meanwhile, John recorded the whole thing.

"Presenting Charlotte Lise Holmes: Musical Genius?"

That was the headline for one of the news stations on the telly.

Another one was, "Sherlock now raising a fellow genius."

Apparently John's post titled, "Charlotte Lise (after the physicist) Holmes plays cello for the first time," went viral on his blog. And for once, John was happy he caught one of Mary's unshakable habits.

And since Lise was technically his niece now, he bought the cello for her.

And that's when all the reporters kept coming.

Day after day she practiced, much to Sherlock's happiness, which came along with reporters scrambling for a recording or a picture.

Because they soon realized this:

The famous Sherlock Holmes has a successor.


	6. Chapter 6

For once Sherlock did not speak this week.

Not once.

Which made Charlotte verrryyy suspicious.

He was up to something...but his face read nothing as he read the paper while Charlotte ate some eggs.

"We're going to Scotland Yard," he interrupted the silence as he turned the page of the paper.

She grinned, she finally got to see where John, and Sherlock, and Lestrade worked!

Tugging him by the coat sleeve, after breakfast, Charlotte jumped up and down with excitement trying to get Sherlock quickly out the door.

"I want to see dead people," she wrote with exclamation marks.

He smirked but then frowned at the fact that she wrote on a piece of paper.

She rolled her eyes at him knowing why he frowned.

"Let's goooooo," she wrote making a squeaking noise, unable to contain her excitement.

"Fine, fine," he sighed his eyes showing he once again was up to something.

"Sherlock why do you have a four year old at my crime scene?!"

"Anderson you are 5 times her age yet you still manage to look like an idiot compared to her now let me work," he snapped as he bent down and looked at the body.

Lestrade waltzed in staring in shock at the scene.

"My division," he stated simply while quickly taking the little girl's hand.

"What are you doing?!"

"Sherlock this is my yard. My rules. You're lucky to even be here."

"She's with me."

"She's 4."

"She's with me."

"She's not even in school yet Sherlock!"

"She's my assistant."

"Sherlock Holmes-"

"It was a suicide."

"What?"

"It was a suicide," he said motioning towards the body.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

Not because she saw a dead body.

No that wasn't odd at all.

Nope.

It was because he said it was a suicide.

Charlotte looked around for a writing pad, but couldn't find one.

"Okay," Lestrade sighed ignoring the fact that a child may be traumatized by a dead body...because Sherlock is well...Sherlock.

Tugging at his sleeve once again she kept shaking her head trying to tell him that he was wrong.

It couldn't be a suicide.

It just couldn't.

"What," he said with a false pout, "cats got your tongue?"

Charlotte knew then what he was doing.

He stole her pad to get her to talk.

She whacked him with her hands, setting her jaw as her face turned red.

He smirked as he watched her get angrier and angrier.

"You can tell by the wound Graham-"

"Greg."

"That it was a SUICIDE."

"And the angle of which the body was found."

Charlotte started rubbing her temples and pacing around in frustration.

"And don't forget the-"

"MURDER," she yelled, "MURDER MURDER MURDER MURDER! Look," she said pointing at the body, "the gun is found on his left hand, YET the bullet was found in a right angle. Also his mouth! It's in a look of horror and look at his shoelaces!"

They then all looked at her while Sherlock grinned laughing.

"Told you Anderson," he smirked.

Running as fast as she could she went to the cabbie signaling to go anywhere.

That's how she found herself at the morgue.

Running as fast as she could she went past a young woman with brown hair and brown eyes.

"Oi," she yelled, "what are you upset about little one," she asked sweetly.

Pacing around and covering her mouth she started hyperventilating.

"Here," she said hastily, "write it down."

All she wrote in that moment before she fainted was one name.

Sherlock Holmes.

"WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES WHY DID YOU SCARE A FIVE YEAR OLD GIRL TO DEATH."

"Four Molly," he smiled, "she's four."

"FOUR YEAR OLD OR NOT SHE FAINTED."

"Her name is Charlotte and she spoke for the first time today," he laughed, "her first word was murder."

Today he knew was a day he would put in his mind palace and keep there forever.

"I'm really happy for you Sherlock," she smiled at the line but then frowned as she looked at the little girl, "BUT SHE FAINTED. CALL HER PARENTS. SOMETHING."

He then hung up.

"Are you okay? Do you remember your name? What's your name?"

"Charlotte," she whispered. "Charlotte Lise Holmes," her voice cracked from not speaking for so long.

That's when it clicked.

"Is Sherlock your father?"

"Sorta."

Minutes passed when he came up and hugged the small child.

"You're hired! You're hired!"

Charlotte huffed for a moment trying to hide her smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With school, my brain has completely forgotten about posting on here. Now that I'm finally on break though, I can post chapters of this old thing weekly!

2 Months later and it was the end of the summer.

Charlotte found herself to be talking more and more until finally, with the help of her therapist, she put her notepad under her, no longer John's, bed.

And although she was still a quiet child around strangers, she finally trusted Sherlock and his surprisingly wide variety of friends.

"Happy birthday darling," was what Charlotte woke up to, seeing Ms. Hudson in a messy apron.

Rubbing her eyes she turned her head confused.

"I saw your papers a couple months back," she explained, "now comeon I got pancakes for breakfast."

Following her to the kitchen, she found Sherlock once again reading the paper.

"Sherlock."

"What?"

Ms. Hudson nudged Sherlock trying to get him to say something.

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you Sherl."

"My name is Sherlock, Ms. Hudson not-"

"Actually it's William," Charlotte muttered.

Sherlock glared at her until she gave a toothy grin.

"I invited everyone to come by to celebrate so it would be nice if you cleaned up," Ms. Hudson said looking at the messy kitchen table then the living room.

"By everyone you mean...?"

"Greg, Molly, John, Mary, Elizabeth, Mycroft-"

Suddenly, Sherlock spat out his coffee.

"You what?!"

"I invited Greg, Molly--"

"No, you invited Mycroft?!"

"Yes," another voice said.

Turning around, Sherlock found Mycroft standing by the door with his famous umbrella.

Sherlock fixed his jaw, trying not to grown out loud. He never planned for Charlotte to meet his elder brother...but now....

"Ooo," she cooed, "this is your elder brother," she suddenly grinned, "clearly trying to lose weight I see."

"He told you to say that," Mycroft snapped.

"No I didn't," Sherlock said with no lie in his eyes, "theirs a reason she's my assistant."

"She isn't your assistant. She's your child. Treat someone with respect for once in your life."

"Lost two pounds, congrats by the way," Charlotte said, ignoring the banter going on between the two brothers.

"Thank you," he said curtly.

"Oi, Sherlock you gotta fix these stairs," someone yelled after a sudden thud was heard in the distance.

"Greg!"

"Oh hi there birthday girl," Greg smiled as he walked to her picking her up, "and hi there to..?"

"Mycroft Holmes."

"Aka the British government," Charlotte joked while booping Mycroft in the nose.

"Greg Lestrade," he said extending his free hand while putting Charlotte down. Mycroft smirked for a moment while he bent down, while Sherlock rolled his eyes.

(Authors Note: That's code for "HE LIKED THE BOOTY.")

Then Molly came up, with a long beautiful dress complete with red lipstick.

"Molly!"

"Hello there little one," she smiled, presenting her with a gift.

"Thank you so much," she whispered to her while giving her a quick hug, "I'll just put it over here."

After running along back to the front door waiting for more people to show, she was suddenly pushed over by someone a lot taller than she was.

"Elizabeth," someone downstairs yelled, "I told you to only do that for football!"

(Authors Note: British football guys comeon)

Charlotte froze with her eyes wide trying not to get reminded from her old life from what seemed like such a long time ago.

"Hi," the elder girl said cheerfully, "my names Eliza. Wanna see my tooth that fell out this morning?"

"Uhhh," she paused trying not to keep her mouth wide open, "sure."

Getting it out of her pocket, Elizabeth presented Charlotte with a pointy tooth, dirty from being in her pocket.

"Can I do experiments with it," Charlotte asked while examining the tooth, "did you have broccoli last night."

"Yes and yes. How did you know? Are you a mind reader?!"

"No," she laughed, "I just saw it."

Elizabeth turned her head confused while putting the tooth back in her pocket.

Not wanting for her to freak out like her "parents" did about her intelligence, Charlotte tried to change the subject.

"Wanna listen to music?"

"Sure then we can dance together! Like in my ballet class!"

"Ok.."

The apartment then echoed with classical music from a radio as Eliza taught Charlotte the foot positions.

"Then this is third, and this is first," she explained while moving her feet.

Charlotte tried to copy it but then fell over.

"I guess you aren't the sports type," Eliza laughed, "mummy told me that I was."

********************************

Hours later and everyone was getting along well. Charlotte and Elizabeth both had their naps and the adults were both socializing as per usual with parties.

"So that's how my wife left me, Lestrade said sadly while drinking more of his cup.

"Have you ever thought of dating anyone different?"

"Different like what?"

"Like-"

"Present time," Ms. Hudson suddenly interrupted getting the stack of everyone's gifts while Charlotte sat on the floor.

"I'll open Molly's first."

Carefully getting the wrapping off, it revealed a beginners chemistry set. She gasped.

"Thank you Aunt Molly!"

"You're very welcome sweetheart," she replied, kissing the top of her head.

Next was Greg who gave her some CD's and a officer badge.

"You do better than half our officers anyway," he joked.

Charlotte blushed while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Molly, John and Eliza were next with one gift each.

Eliza with a plush bee, Molly with matching bee tee shirt and black pants since Sherlock's picks were, "too similar to his look," while Sherlock argued it was "reliable and consistent with the work she was doing," and finally John gave her a bee violin case.

"A violin case, but I don't have a-"

She then turned to Sherlock with her eyes wide as he nudged her with his gift.

Opening it up revealed a small violin complete with rosin, music, and a bow.

"Thank you thank you thank you," she cried, tears of joy going down her cheeks, "And thank you Uncle John and Aunt Mary and everyone and--"

"What about me?!"

"Oh I'm sorry Mycroft I forgot about you," she chuckled while wiping her eyes.

Opening it up she heard a bark.

"A DOG," Sherlock and Charlotte yelled at the same time.

"I'm gonna name it Redbeard," she laughed, "cause it's red! And it has a beard!"

Looking at the Irish settler, Sherlock glared at what Mycroft, knowing he was doing this to annoy him.

"Don't forget the envelop," Mycroft whispered to Charlotte as she hugged him.

She ripped it open seeing a letter.

"You are invited to go to Murray's School of Arts and Education?!"

"School," Sherlock cried, "No way,"

"But Sher-"

"No."

"Brother just because I left you while you were bullied at--"

Sherlock suddenly jumped at Mycroft from the floor while the dog barked at the two of them.

"Okay girls. Not now-" John started.

"Don't start," Sherlock growled at Mycroft ignoring everyone in the room.

"Papa," Charlotte started with a sad look in her eyes, "Please."

Sherlock's expression suddenly changed from one of anger to realization.

He let go of Mycroft and sat back down while stealing her violin to tune, acting like nothing happened.

"Guess that solved it," Molly whispered to Mary.

"Didn't know a little girl had so much power over him," she whispered back.

"Now promise me to not-"

"No."

Charlotte then sighed giving Sherlock puppy dog eyes while holding Redbeard giving puppy dog eyes.

"Pleeeaasssseeeeeee," she begged.

"No," he said while glaring at Mycroft.

Charlotte huffed.

"Now play with me," he ordered trying to ignore the situation at hand.

"Okay Papa."

Sherlock tried not to blush on his pale skin.

He would never get used to hearing that.

They then played together the songs Charlotte heard millions of times from the basics to the challenging ones.

They harmonized together.

And Sherlock couldn't be happier. 

Sherlock is my version of Jean and Charlotte is my young Cosette 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With school, my brain has completely forgotten about posting on here. Now that I'm finally on break though, I can post chapters of this old thing weekly!

Hours later after the party ended, the famous Sherlock Holmes still seemed....off.

And Charlotte noticed.

"Please don't be high please don't be high," she muttered to herself. Knowing her sister and hitting the books have taught her a couple things. Including what it looks like and feels like to be high.

And let's just say on film, seeing a at the time four year old high is hilarious.

But that's not the point.

"He probably isn't...," she looked at him, "unusually violent today but, that's probably how he is around Uncle Myc."

She sighed. Even though she did call her adoptive father "papa" for the first time didn't mean he didn't have any faults.

And it would drive her insane if she didn't know.

"Papa," she whispered while holding her blanket and bear since it was late at night, and Sherlock was on the phone.

He turned putting the phone on his chest so the person on the other line, probably Mycroft based on the way he was holding the phone, wouldn't hear.

"Yes?"

"Are you.....high?"

He rose an eyebrow.

"What?!"

Her throat suddenly went dry.

"Are. You. High? Sissy got high once and she got all violent like you did and she started punching people and slamming people into walls and-"

"For once your deductions are wrong," he said coldly.

"Oh ok good," she smiled ignoring his coldness...or at least trying to.

"You should go Charlotte. It's late."

She frowned but left.

********************************

Hearing near her bedroom door, she heard the conversation on the phone.

"For the last time I'm not-"

"Oh shut up," he spat.

"Or what," he asked sarcastically, "you'll send me away like last time? Oh how unfortunate."

"I'll pay for a tutor."

"I don't CARE if it's a free scholarship for the next 12 years."

She then heard the voice on the other end get louder.

"You said caring is not an advantage remember," he smirked while pacing around the room outside.

He then suddenly went to a halt and frowned.

"SO AM I," he roared, "SHE'S MY CHILD FOR GOD SAKES NOT YOURS."

"You wouldn't," he growled.

Their was a pause for a moment then he threw his phone across the room.

"GO TO SLEEP CHARLOTTE," he yelled towards the hallway.

********************************  
Several Days Later

"So I'm going to school today?!"

"Yes," he sighed.

"Thank you thank you thank you papa," she replied excitedly hugging him. He stiffened, patting her head, now dirt free and shiny.

Walking into the school, their was no denying it was fancy with Ivy wrapping around the brick walls and the bushes blooming with flowers and fruits of course being trimmed to perfection.

Walking alone she soon found herself nervous.

"What if all the kids are mean just like they were to papa," she thought looking at her small fingers. 

She sighed as she went into the classroom.

"Oh god," she muttered.

Everywhere kids were coloring or playing with toys in a brightly lit room filled with all kinds of colors and numbers.

She hated it.

Turning around and jogging into the front office, she found an older stern woman with squarish framed glasses.

"And what is it that you need dearie?"

"I need to get out of that class," she demanded.

She made an awful face at that remark.

"What class?"

"5-102."

"Oh dearie that's the only kindergarten class. The only way to skip it is to take a test for it."

"I'll take it then."

"Tomorrow. You'll take it tomorrow," she corrected, "today you'll enjoy your first day of school, yes," she asked grabbing Charlotte's arm and leading her back to the class.

Charlotte taking her own arm back looked at the elder woman like she was mad or something.

"I don't belong in there," she squeaked, "Their dumbos!"

"Well we'll see by tomorrow ok?"

She shook her head until she was once again dragged by the elder woman.

"Let me go," she yelled, "please let me go," she corrected, "I don't belong here papa was right," she talked to herself out loud, "papa! PAPA! PA-"

Her mouth was suddenly covered by a hand firmly as she squirmed while being dragged to the classroom.

"HELP! HELP!"

"Shut up you stupid child," the woman snapped.

Quickly and out of anger, Charlotte stomped on the woman's foot, while yelling in pain she ran for what felt like her life.

Making it outside, she breathed heavily until she felt someone cover her head with a bag.

And then everything went black. 

**OOOOOOOO PLOT TWIST! Whatchu gonna do about it?!**


	9. Chapter 9

She saw nothing.

But heard something.

In the distance, somewhere she heard someone roar, "I told you not to touch her," and then a couple gun shots.

Waking up and looking at the ceiling she found herself to be in a abandoned house not too far from her home, she could tell by the weather outside which could be seen from the tiny window in front of her.

Looking at her face in a cracked mirror as she got up, she saw a bruise on her eye, that's about it. Not a big deal.

Didn't mean she wasn't in pain though.

Hearing slow footsteps coming from obviously just cleaned shoes, Charlotte stood still.

And then she saw him.

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, "my name is Jim."

She didn't respond, just stared at him.

Westwood suit just like in her parent's closet.

She always wondered where her parents got Westwood suits. It wasn't like they were rich like Jim.

Unless he gave it to them-

No.

It couldn't be true.

This man.

The one that kidnapped her couldn't be-

But he could.

Brown hair, brown eyes. Looked just like her mother.

Even the hint of an accent was similar.

Charlotte clenched her jaw.

"You know Sherlock should really teach you some manners."

"You're a murderer," she whispered, "that's how you know him. And a psychopath too."

"Oh dear," he laughed, "hate to break it to you but so is Sherlock...and Mycroft but he isn't a psychopath."

He paused getting a gun out.

"Now," he began, "enough with the chit chat--"

She quickly grabbed the gun out of his hands facing him with it.

"Oh oh oh!"

He then giggled in delight.

"Then I guess we'll have another murderer in the family."

"You really are adorable. Thinking you can shoot me or any of my assassins with that. Really."

She then slowly put the gun to her head.

"Oh Uncle," she sighed, "how can I miss this," she asked motioning the gun toward her head once again.

He frowned.

********************************  
"Oh my god," she heard someone whisper.

"Westwood suit just like my fathers said he got it from my mother's brother said I was just like him which is probably why they hate me so much," she explained smirking while holding the gun tighter.

"You didn't kidnap me to scare me or Sherlock you did it for yourself," she whispered again, "caring is not an advantage dear uncle."

Suddenly two men attacked Moriarty from behind while Lestrade shot the assassin.

"Alright Charlotte put the gun down," one of the men said soothingly.

"Thanks John."

Another man grinned in the shadows. Clearly Sherlock.

About to pass the gun to John, she heard a gunshot and dropped it.

She then collapsed.

"You really didn't think I just had one did you," Moriarty grinned while being handcuffed.

********************************

"Charlotte," a voice yelled, "can you hear me?! CHARLOTTE."

Then everything went black once again.

Until--

"You just got shot, a hole is going to rip through you, what do you do first," Mary asked circling her in the no longer dark room. Lights escaping through the window.

"Fall," she breathed out.

"Already did that," Mycroft corrected.

"Uhhh,"

"Narrow it down," Mycroft clued.

"Narrow. It. Down."

"Feel."

"Exactly," another voice chipped in. Molly turned adding, "so you need control. Don't look down."

Charlotte then looked down to see herself bleeding profusely on her shoulder.

She then ran breathing heavily as she went up the stairs until she was stopped by none other than-

"She said not to look you idiot. You really are an idiot. A daft dimbo actually," Moriarty grinned like the Cheshire.

"Shut up get out of my mind palace."

"I can't. You put me here," he replied revealing a door. Opening the door she saw her old bedroom back in her old home.

"He is right you know," Hans said sitting on her bed, "we can't leave. And none of us will ever leave your stupid little brain unfortunately," he added as her brothers and sisters all appeared in her room surrounding her.

She started to breathe in and out faster and faster until she needed to grab something.

Running out she screamed in pain.

Until Redbeard came running toward her.

"Redbeard," she cooed as a pool of blood was forming around her.

Unable to ignore the pool he soon disappeared too.

"Think think," she whispered, "I can't die yet."

"She's brilliant," a low voice said.

Turning to the police station she found Sherlock talking to the police.

"Sher!"

"Oh hello love," he whispered cupping her face in his hands. She soon found herself putting her bloody hands on top of his as he kissed her on the forehead.

"Control," she whispered, "control."

And soon everything was bright once again.

********************************  
"CHARLOTTE CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

Charlotte found herself on the ambulance, the howls of the sirens echoing in her head causing her to have a headache.

"Of course," she whispered blood coming out of her mouth.

"Oh god oh god oh god," Sherlock muttered trying not to panic. I mean his little girl only got shot right?! Putting his slim fingers on his head he went into his mind palace.

"Put pressure on that wound," John's voice echoed in his brain.

Quickly he jumped towards Charlotte putting his scarf on the wound pressing downwards.

She yelled once again in pain. Until her eyes started to fall once again.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me," he demanded hitting her face a little.

"Control control," she whispered over and over again. She really wasn't in the mood to die today.

"Remember when I showed you Mary and John's wedding song?"

Charlotte nodded while a tear went down her face.

"Hum it," he demanded trying to distract her.

She did all the way to the hospital.

Hearing snaps of cameras from the paparazzi and yelling from the doctors Charlotte tried her best to keep herself awake.

"Sher," she wheezed.

"Yes?"

"Am I just like him?"

"Who," he asked pretending to not know what she was talking about.

She then gave him a look.

"No," he responded finally, "not at all."

"He's the reason they hate me you know," she whispered again, more tears falling down her eyes, "if I wasn't so stupid I could of had a good relationship with them."

"You weren't being stupid," he said coldly while she went in the emergency room, "you were being you."

"Same thing."

"No," he paused not really wanting to have a chat about her original parents, "NOT the same thing. And besides, you wouldn't have met me," he responded letting go of the wound as she went into the double door of surgery.

And for once in her life, she embraced the darkness.

**So that was intense.....Keep in mind her mind palace isn't as developed as Sherlock's. That's why it's so scattered.**


End file.
